


Unfinished Junkrat Smut Drabbles

by AutumnDiesIrae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: <-- only partially, Awkward Crush, Blindfolds, Demonic Possession, Demons, Exhibitionism, F/M, Femdom, Freeform, Handcuffs, Incubus Lucio, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Out of Character, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding Crops, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Succubi & Incubi, Unfinished, Vaginal Fingering, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-18 01:31:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18976033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnDiesIrae/pseuds/AutumnDiesIrae
Summary: This is a collection of unfinished, abandoned, or otherwise incomplete explicit Junkrat smutfics. Please check the chapter summaries/notes for more information! This will be updated with another chapter later on as well.





	1. Junkrat/Widowmaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkrat, held captive in Talon's headquarters, decides to cozy up to Widowmaker, only to get more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular excerpt was taken from a Mercyhog oneshot where Mercy became pregnant and was kidnapped by Talon. Junkrat attempted to rescue her and was kidnapped as well, before Widowmaker took an interest in him.

They were placed in adjacent cells - unable to see or speak to each other. Mercy, having trouble standing from the pressing weight in her belly, immediately sank into the cot and lay on her side, breathing hard and suppressing nausea. Junkrat was the complete opposite, banging on the plexiglass and screeching obscenities until his throat was raw. After he had exhausted himself, he sunk to the floor, panting and pulling his knees up to his chest. He was afraid, that much was true. Without Roadhog by his side, he felt decidedly helpless - he had come here to try and help Mercy, and ended up locked up like an animal. He bit his lip until it bled.  
An enormous, hairless man delivered their dinner - a bread roll, thin soup, and a water bottle. To the ex-Junker, this was more than enough for a meal, but he worried for the doctor and her baby.   
“Oi, baldy, ya know a knocked-up sheila deserves more food than this? Don’t be cheap, give her some -!”   
Before he could finish, he felt the man’s hand clench around his neck, banging his head against the wall as he squeezed.   
“How dare you speak to me like that.”   
“S-sorry, mate, I-I was outta line -!” Junkrat choked out, eyes watering and fingers tingling from oxygen loss. The bald man grunted, dropping him and wiping his hand off with a handkerchief with the same disgusted expression as someone who picked up a dead mouse. Junkrat coughed hard into his fist, gasping for air. As he lifted his head up, watching the man leave and lock the door, the corners of his eyes pricked with tears.   
“R-Roadie…” he croaked, “C-come quick…” 

 

* * *

  
On the third day of their imprisonment, the purple woman came with their dinner. She wrinkled her nose at Junkrat, who was trying extremely hard not to stare at her butt.   
“ _Répugnant_ ,” she muttered under her breath as she pushed another bowl of soup over to him.   
“Ya complimentin’ me, sheila?” Junkrat purred, “I heard French is the language of love.”   
“I should cut off your tongue so you don’t say such stupid things.”   
“It’ll be of better use t’ya between her thighs,” he snarked, letting his long tongue loll out of his mouth. The woman hissed audibly.   
“Ya haven’t told me yer name, darlin’,”   
“I’m not your darling,” she said, “You will call me Widowmaker.”   
“Hm, that’s a bit long, dontcha think? I think I’ll stick with darl’.”   
“You will do no such thing.”   
“Are ya gonna stop m -?”   
Very suddenly, Junkrat had been grabbed by his hair and tugged up to his feet, eye to eye with the tall, slender woman. He felt a throb.   
“Hooley dooley, I do love a woman who can bench-press me.”   
“Stop talking, you disgusting little thing.”   
Junkrat grinned, his tongue peeking out between his teeth.   
“Can’t help it, you’re a real looker.”   
“Enough with this cheap flattery.”   
“I bet I can get through to ya.”   
“Please,” Widowmaker snorted, dropping Junkrat to the floor, “I feel nothing, not even the cold of winter. Do you think you can change that?”   
“I’ve managed to get a killin’ machine to call me his best friend. What’re ya bettin’ if I do, darl’?”   
Widowmaker pursed her lips, then glanced at the clock on the outer wall.   
“You have…piqued my interest. But I know you won’t deliver.”   
“Try me,” Junkrat grinned, using Roadhog’s favorite phrase.   
“…I have certain requirements first. Come.”   
She held his wrist in a death-grip and pulled him out of the cell, tugging him along.   
“Try and run and you die,” she said. Junkrat gulped, suddenly fearful, following her obediently up a shadowy side staircase, obviously to avoid any security cameras.   
They soon found themselves in Widowmaker’s room, which smelled heavily of French cologne. She pushed him into a lavish bathroom.   
“Shower,” she said, voice carrying a domineering tone that went straight to Junkrat’s crotch. Fighting the urge to smarmily reply, he slipped into the bathroom and undressed, briskly washing the layers of soot and dirt until he was marginally cleaner. Upon stepping out and rubbing himself dry with a towel, he found the only clothes that were left for him was a pair of clean briefs that seemed like they were a size too tight, almost on purpose. He wondered where she got it as he slipped it on.   
“Oi, darl’, ya forgot me other clothes!” he called. No answer.   
“Darl’?”   
Confused, he stepped back out into the bedroom and was promptly hit by the smell of scented candles, burning under the mirror and filling the room with the sweet stink of citrus. The soft carpet tickled under his bare foot as he glanced around, looking for Widowmaker.   
Rather suddenly he felt a set of cool hands resting on his shoulders from behind.   
“On your knees, Rat.”   
Junkrat paused, then slowly obliged, sinking down onto the carpet a few feet from the four-poster bed. He felt himself throb.   
Widow had walked around him, standing in front of him. She was wearing black lingerie and stilettos, a riding crop in her hand. She had just reapplied her makeup, sultry lips heavy with dark red.   
“W-wow, darl’, ya look like a million bucks…” Junkrat said, drooling. He was promptly thwacked across the head with the crop.   
“YEOWCH! What the f -?!”   
“Rule one, you will refer to me as Mistress. Not anything else. Are we clear, Rat?”   
Junkrat’s face reddened deeply, realizing what was about to transpire. It made his cock twitch in his briefs as his eyes made contact with her heels again.   
“Answer me, Rat.”   
“Yeah…mistress.”   
The corner of Widow’s mouth curled upward slightly as she slid the crop under Junkrat’s chin, lifting his head up.   
“Rule two, you will do everything I say.”   
“Yes, mistress…but…”   
“But what?”   
“Is there a safe word?”   
Widowmaker clicked her tongue.   
“...coffee,” she finally decided on. Junkrat nodded.   
“Anythin’ else, mistress…?”   
“…just that you’d better be ready to prove yourself,” she said, smirking, “Let’s begin.”   
She picked up a long purple sash and carefully tied it over Junkrat’s eyes in a blindfold. He chewed his lip as he felt his ears suddenly become much more sensitive to every noise around him, his skin become electrified from the slightest touch - and the combination was not helping how acutely aware he was that Widowmaker was now handcuffing his wrists behind his back, the icy metal tight around his flesh. His briefs were extraordinarily tight now as he listened to the thuds of Widow’s heels, walking around to be in front of him.   
“Move forward.”   
Junkrat obliged, scooting forward by shuffling his knees until he felt his nose touch Widow’s thigh. She was sitting on the edge of the bed now, she could tell by the fact that her knees pressed against his shoulders, keeping him from moving forward further.   
“You said you had a good tongue. Show me.”   
Junkrat made a noise in his throat as he blindly shifted his face, trying to find where Widow was. He felt his nose brush against the soft mound of her panties, between her thighs, and exhaled softly. He hesitated for a second.   
“What are you waiting for, Fawkes?”   
“Aren’t ya…gonna move yer panties…?”   
“Can’t you?” she replied, almost teasing. The blond realized what she was doing - a form of denial. Biting back a whine, Junkrat obliged, nuzzling into her panties and running his tongue over the edge, trying to tug it to the side and expose her sex, but it kept snapping back in refusal. Making a frustrated grunt, he tried using his teeth instead, but he could not get the panty to stay in place.   
“Pathetic,” Widow crooned above him, mockingly. Junkrat growled, then tried again, this time using his sharp cheekbone to keep the fabric in place as he finally gained access to her lips. He promptly began to lap at them, running his tongue up and down the full length rhythmically.   
“There you go…” Widowmaker purred, the praise going straight to Junkrat’s cock, which sat neglected and erect in his boxers. He made a muffled groan of need that grew more audible as he dragged his tongue up his mistress’ sex. He wished he could rip off the blindfold and see her face - the thought of her sinking her teeth into her plush lower lip in an aroused grin made his briefs seem all the more tighter.   
“What, does _ma petite souris_ want me to touch him?” Widowmaker chuckled, resting her hand on Junkrat’s hair and curling her fingers in a death grip. The tightness elicited a grunt from Junkrat as he pressed his thighs together, moaning feebly.   
“Let me see…”   
She stood up, adjusting her panty back into the correct spot, and tugged Junkrat along by his hair to the centre of the rug, only relinquishing after she had dug around in her drawer and found what she was looking for. Junkrat made a grunt as he dropped awkwardly to the floor, feeling her tug his briefs down to his bent knees.   
“W-what’re…” he began, only to feel the cool, sharp heel of her stiletto dig into his neck, pushing him down and forcing him to lift his ass up into the air.   
“O-oh, god…” he groaned, furrowing his brows as he craned to hear what his mistress was up to back there. So far she was not moving, seeming to enjoy the sight of him under her heel too much. He faintly thought he heard the sound of a photo being taken, but he was too delirious with lustful heat to really tell. Junkrat felt her lift her foot up as she knelt between his thighs. Cold lubricant dripped between his cheeks, making him briefly flinch in surprise until he felt a warm tingly sensation creep up his spine. This must be one of those fire/ice lube gels. He did not have time to ask before he felt the head of a strap-on push against his tight entrance.   
“A-ah…!”   
“Mmm, you’re so tight, _mon cher_ , loosen up for me…”   
“T-tryin’…a-ah, fuck…fuck…”   
“Language, Rat,” Widow reprimanded, snapping her riding crop against Junkrat’s cheek and making him yelp.   
“S-sorry, mistress…!” he whined, trying his best to loosen himself and grant her entrance. After constant teasing, coupled by the tingling gel, Junkrat’s ring of muscle finally relaxed, allowing Widowmaker to push the length in. Junkrat threw his head back, groaning hotly as he felt his muscles stretch, felt his legs inadvertently spread apart. The head found itself nestled right up against his sweet spot, making drool run down his chin.   
“M-mmmnngh…” he gasped, wishing he could be unhandcuffed and allowed to tangle his fingers in the carpet that was currently pressed up against his face. He did not have long to think on the idea when he felt Widowmaker slowly withdraw the length, only to push it in again with added fervor. Each rhythmic thrust made arousal speed up his spine like a livewire.   
“Ah…ahaha…f-f - god, mistress…I just…mmmngh…!”   
“You talk too much,” Widowmaker said coolly, less as an insult and more as a statement of fact as she pulled back and thrusted as hard as she could up against his prostate. The noises bursting out of her sub seemed almost comical - loud, unrestrained groans interspersed by the occasional ‘yes’ or ‘please’.   
“M-mistress -!” Junkrat managed to gasp at one point.   
“What is it, _mon cher_?” Widowmaker crooned, opting to change her thrusts for hip-rolls, grinding the strap-on against Junkrat’s walls.   
“I n-need t’c-cum…!”   
“Absolutely not.”   
Junkrat made a frustrated groan as he felt Widowmaker pull the strap-on completely out, craving the feeling of fullness that it had brought. She felt her fingers rake his scalp and grip his blond locks again, yanking him up to his feet, his briefs slipping down to his ankles and eventually slipping free of his feet. The pain and forced motions pulled him back from the edge as he obeyed Widowmaker’s directions, eventually finding himself lying on his back on the four-poster bed, handcuffs readjusted to keep his arms up and bind him to the headboard.   
“Wid - mistress…” he moaned, erect cock twitching in the air despairingly as he tried to keep track of where she was, slack jaw hanging comedically. He felt one hand grip the base of his cock, making it throb uncontrollably, as the other hand carefully slid on a condom, smoothing it neatly down to the base in easy strokes.   
“If you move, I will stop. Only I may move,” Widowmaker instructed. Junkrat nodded, desperately eager for her touch. He felt her move on top of him, carefully positioning herself - she must have stripped when he was trying to pinpoint her location. He barely had time to think on the subject when he felt her slide over him, feel his cock slowly push deep into her. He groaned openly, wishing he could buck his lips and fuck her into oblivion, but held his breath and curled his toes instead.   
She was agonizingly slow at first, moving up and down at the pace of a snail, refusing to take more than the head and topmost part of the shaft. Junkrat bit back his despairing pleas and restrained himself, overstimulated.   
“P-please…” he eventually choked out.   
“Please what?” she cooed.   
“M-more, please…”   
“You mean like this?” Widowmaker chuckled, lowering herself all the way. Junkrat made a sharp cry, arching his back.   
“F-fuck, W-W - mistress -!”   
“I said to watch your language, Rat,” she barked, tweaking one of his nipples just enough to subdue the brewing orgasm in his gut.   
“N-ngh!”   
He can hardly stand it, being pulled back from the edge so many times. He just wanted to let that mounting pressure out, to hear his Domme make a loud, pleasured noise as she came as well. She was speeding up, every feeling multiplied tenfold to Junkrat. Her soft moans were electrifying to his ears.   
“Still holding on, _mon cher_?” she asked, amidst quiet gasps. She was genuinely surprised how long the Rat was lasting - she had expected him to plead for mercy a long time ago.   
“M-mmm, anythin’ f-fer ya!” he managed to say, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he squirmed a bit, “W-will ya l-let me cum this time…?”   
“Maybe,” she purred, lowering herself and feeling his head against her g-spots. He could feel her hand resting on his chest as the other gripped his knee, riding him mercilessly.   
“Ahh…right there…yes, right there…”   
Her moans threatened to make Junkrat come undone as he bit his lip, feeling the sweat run down his face. Her muscles rhythmically squeezing around his cock were just nudging him closer and closer to his impending climax.   
“M-mistress, I g-gotta -!”   
“Just a little more…I’m so close…” she said, voice simultaneously husky and desperate as she chased her own orgasm. It took every fibre of Junkrat’s being not to reciprocate her thrusts as drool ran down the corner of his mouth.   
“P-please -!” he begged, muscles contorting desperately. He felt her weight shift as she lowered herself a little, pressing her face into the crook of his neck.   
“J-just…a little longer…” she stammered, composure breaking. Junkrat wished so desperately he could cup her hips, grab her wrist, anything at all, but all he could do was clench his fists up in their handcuffs as he bit his lip hard, trying to control himself. It felt like he was about to explode from all the pent-up pressure.   
Widowmaker made a soft cry into his neck, a warm gush of liquid splattering Junkrat’s muscular belly. He was thrown off by that for a second as she rode out her orgasm - he had not taken her for a squirter. But the lust was back in a second like a whipcrack.   
“N-ngh - l-lemme -!”   
“Cum, _mon cher_ …you’ve earned it…” she gasped quietly. Junkrat wasted no time, cumming into the condom with a manner as explosive as most other things he did. The ragged scream that ripped itself out of his lungs could probably be heard through the entire Talon headquarters, but neither seemed to care, flopped against each other in a sweaty, sticky mess.   
“M-mmm…you did a good job…” Widowmaker purred, the brief praise making Junkrat’s deflated cock twitch just a little as she slid the condom off and threw it away. That was really the only thing he heard her say, along with some muddled other comments, before his brain gave out and sunk him into deep sleep.   
When he awoke, tired eyes fluttering open, it was mostly dark, the only light the bluish pale tendrils leaking in from the window. He shifted slightly, finding his handcuffs and blindfold removed. He could see the red marks of the tight restrained on his flesh hand in the dim light.   
“Widow?” he called out, lifting his head slightly. She was not in the bed with him, but a movement caught his eye - she was in the dark, and had turned her head slightly.   
“You’re awake?” she asked. It took him a second to realize she was naked, a blush creeping across his face. He had realized that last night thanks to the blindfold he had not seen her fully unclothed.   
“I…yeah…”   
“It’s about...5 in the morning,” she said, coming over, holding one of those fancy cigarettes with the long filters, and a lighter. She lit the end before sitting beside him in the bed, looking him over.   
“What?” he asked.   
“My apologies, I was just thinking.”   
“Well, ya oughta tell me how I did, nah? Did I make ya feel somethin’?”   
Two spots of color found themselves in Widowmaker’s cheeks.   
“So that’s a yes, then?” Junkrat grinned smugly.   
“ _Connard_ …” she growled, though her voice carried less venom than before, “You’re a foolish man.”   
“Come on, sheila, I’m sure I made ya feel somethin’!”   
“No one can make me feel, stop this foolishness.”   
“Why not?”   
“They took that away from me. I feel nothing, and I always will.”   
Junkrat looked up at her, expression soft.   
“I know that there’s still somethin’ in ya, somewhere…I’ve seen so many Junkers out there who convince themselves that there’s nothin’ in their hearts, but there is. Nothin’ can really bury that down forever.”   
He rested his hand on her cheek, running a thumb over her soft skin.   
“You’re a fool, Rat,” she said, though her lack of bite made the statement far less convincing. Junkrat could not be sure, but it looked like there were pinpricks of tears in her eyes.   
“People act like fools when they’re in love, don’t they?”   
Widowmaker made a sharp intake of breath. Junkrat felt a rush of heat spread across his face inadvertently.   
“…you are single?” she eventually said.   
“I’m…friends with benefits with someone, but he’s interested in someone else,” Junkrat murmured, thinking back to Lucio. He enjoyed their late-night sex flings but knew he wanted D.Va. Eventually he would have to let the DJ go.   
“I see.”   
An awkward silence hung between them briefly as Junkrat scooted slightly closer to her, watching her extinguish her cigarette in an ashtray by the bed.   
“What are you doing?” she asked, when she felt him rest his hand on her hip.   
“Testin’ a theory,” he said, leaning in.   
“Rat -”   
She did not get to finish, melting into the kiss almost immediately. She tasted like smoke, he tasted like spice. He had learned where her most sensitive parts were from last night, groping at her breasts as his thumbs rubbed rings over her nipples. Eventually his flesh hand migrated downward, thumb caressing her clit as his fingers pumped in and out of her slick folds, delighting in the muffled moans she made against his lips. Widowmaker’s arms wrapped around his neck as heat pooled between her legs, body aching for more.   
After near-endless teasing of her labia, enough to get her wet enough to take him, Junkrat slid in. Movements that started out slow grew faster, hotter - Widow found herself dragging her nails down his back as he sucked at her neck vampishly, moaning his nickname as her long legs wrapped around his angular hips. It felt too good.   
Eventually he came, thick ropes of white over her chest as he felt her splash him with her own warm fluids. Both panted quietly as Junkrat rolled over, lying beside her in the soft bed. He mumbled something faintly that he himself did not hear before he blacked out again.   
When he woke up, he was back in the cell, lying on his cot. For a minute, he thought perhaps the night with Widowmaker had just been a dream, but a glance in the mirror at the raw scratches down his back reassured him it had not been. Chewing his lip, he ended up pulling the blanket over himself and running his flesh hand up and down the length of his cock, quietly moaning for Widow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this hot garbage. Any comments/kudos are appreciated greatly.
> 
> Follow http://artumndiesirae.tumblr.com/ for other stories!  
> (Main blog: http://autumndiesirae.tumblr.com/)


	2. Junkrat/D.Va

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamison and his incubus friend tease Hana during gym, and she rewards him subsequently with sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of many scenes from an unfinished Incubus!Lucio/Catholic Schoolboy!Junkrat AU. The premise centered heavily on exhibitionism, and eventually Transfer Student!Hana was pulled into the shenanigans as well and became friends with benefits with Junkrat.

"We both have gym later today, right?" Hana was asking as she walked with Jamison, thumbs tapping away at her phone, "What do you want to do after?"

"Dinner again?" Jamison asked, half-distracted. Hana must have washed her hair today - she smells of strawberries.

"I had a big lunch, I dunno if I'll be hungry..." she said, tucking her phone in her backpack and in the process accidentally dropping the pink pencil she had tucked behind her ear, "Oops."

She bent to pick up the rolling pencil, and as much as Jamie tried not to stare at her butt, he couldn't help but sneak a glance. Her panties were a light pink, with a dark red heart on the left cheek. Small, perfect, round - he really wanted to cup it, but restrained his hands, feeling the hot glare of Professor Vaswani on his back as she marched down the hall.

"Anyway...do you know what we're doing today?"

"Dunno...heard Mr. Reyes is still out, though..."

"Oh good, we get the cowboy again," Hana scoffed, before looking up at Jamison. Her expression softened.

"Walk me to class?" she asked, offering her hand. Jamie felt a rush of heat to his face as he quietly took it.

Jesse was waiting for everyone, holding a clipboard. He tipped his hat slightly to them, grinning wide.

"Howdy, y'all. Today we're doing the pacer test."

Everyone collectively groaned - no one was a fan of the agonizing running exam.

"Hey, hey, it's not so bad. We'll do it three at a time, the rest of you can stand by and watch."

The students clustered halfheartedly into a single-file line - Jamie found himself at the back, Hana in front of him. She was busy with her phone, responding to texts from other girls in class, only half-paying attention to the line as it slowly inched along. Jamison tried his best not to stare at her, but felt his eyes inadvertently drawn down as she distractedly reached back to tug her gym shorts down a little.

_Why not give it a squeeze?_

Jamie jumped a bit.

"F-fuck off, Lu..." he muttered, face hot.

_Here, let me give you a...hand._

Luciofer's heat spread across Jamie's chest, collecting in his right arm and reaching out, seemingly of its own volition.

"L-Lu, no -!"

But it was too late - Jamie could feel his fingers tugging at the band of Hana's shorts, snapping them against her back.

"Dgh -! Hey!" she said, with a giggle, "What was that for, you perv?"

"I-I'm so sorry, Hana!" Jamie stammered, face a deep shade of red. She giggled more.

"Is that you, or him?" she queried, not bothered as the hand groped at her butt, squeezing it a little. It felt like a little peach in Jamie's hand, making him blush more.

"It's him..."

"Tch, no wonder. Well, I think you're good at not getting caught, Jamie," she teased, "I'm curious if you know what to do down there. Most guys don't."

Her tone made it sound like she had no expectation that the two of them could get her even slightly aroused. Jamie could almost feel Luciofer raising his eyebrow as he slipped his hand into the band of her shorts, down lower, tracing a finger up Hana's panties and circling at where her clit was through the fabric. Jamie kept his head up, gauging her reactions. She was playing hard to get, typing away at her phone, but Luciofer knew what he was doing. Ever so slowly, he moved her panties to the side, his fingers almost absently running the length of her folds. Hana stiffened just a little, but otherwise did not react. Jamie felt a weird tightness in his chest - and his pants.

The steadily increasing wetness betrayed Hana's coolness, as did her shifting from foot to foot under Luciofer's intense perusal of her labia. The devil made a grin, index finger stroking at her clit as the ring finger gently wiggled its way in.

"A-ah..."

Jamison was sure he had imagined the rush of slick to his fingers, but Hana's tiny moan ensured him he had not. She was having a lot more trouble attempting to hide her arousal at this point, gripping her phone to her chest and biting her lip as Luciofer pushed another finger into her. She certainly tried, though, wriggling and bobbing up and down as if trying to alleviate the mounting pressure in her.

"F-fuck's sake, you two..." Hana muttered snappishly, the part of her shorts between her legs now sporting a few dark spots. Her breath was hitching in her throat, as was Jamie's. The way she squirmed and gasped softly was just so -

"Final three!" McCree called, startling the two out of their stupor. Luciofer relinquished his hold just a little, allowing Jamie to quickly sweep his hand back, but when Hana turned to glance at him, he felt the demon urge the fingers into his mouth, much to his mortification. She made a huffy noise, cheeks still bright red, as she took her position at the starting line.

Jamison had to admit, she tasted good.

The pacer test was excruciating, even for someone who was not lacking a leg like he was. He only made it to Level 3 before collapsing to the floor, panting hard and wiping the sweat from his forehead. Hana kept going to Level 5 before she too had to stop, slowing to a walk and putting her hands behind her head as she breathed. Beads of sweat rolled down her face, the patch of wetness between her thighs now less apparent amidst the splotches of sweat on her shirt.

"Good job, everyone, well done," McCree purred, writing some notes on his clipboard, "I think that's a good place to stop fer today, y'all are free to head home."

The students collectively sighed with relief, dispersing to the locker rooms. Hana sidled up to Jamie as he hauled himself up, tying a loose lace.

"Wot...?" he asked, expression worried. He was half-expecting her to get angry and slap him.

"...nothing. Just wondering if you're as good with your dick as you are with your fingers," she chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The forwardness of her comment made Jamie blush something fierce.

"The girls will be out of the lockers quick...maybe you can stop by after...?" Hana crooned, cupping his chin with her soft hand. Jamie throbbed, a deep redness spreading across his face.

"I-I..." he stammered, "I-is this for real?'

She laughed softly.

"Yeah. I even picked out something special for the occasion."

She gently tugged a familiar shiny square from her pocket. A pink-colored condom. She really had thought this through. How long had she been planning this? Did Luciofer know?

"Well? Is it a date?" she asked, running her finger over his lips.

"Y-yeah..." Jamie stammered, blushing profusely. He watched her saunter off, gym shorts suddenly tight again.

He wanted to be clean for her, that much was certain. He scrubbed himself in the shower quickly, taking enough time that his cock finally deflated a bit. Drying himself quickly, Jamison pulled on his clothes and bolted to the girl's locker room. As much as he would like to barge in, he hesitated, pressing his head against the door and listening for the sounds of the girls moving around. Seemingly nothing aside from a soft singing - he could recognize Hana's voice anywhere. He peeked in, barely putting anything beyond his long nose in the door, and searched for signs of life.

"The coast is clear, Jamie..." Hana called, laughing softly. The blond wiggled his way in, face red.

"Did someone replace you with a tomato on the way?" she chuckled, sitting up on the bench. She was wearing her skirt and blouse, but Jamie did not need Luciofer to tell him that she had taken off her bra.

"Well, then," the aforementioned demon piped up, rubbing his hands together from a perch atop the lockers, "What are we doing? Spitroast?"

"Excuse me," Hana snapped, "I asked Jamie to meet me here, not you. Go away."

"You want him floundering around between your legs? Without my help?" Luciofer was mockingly aghast.

"I didn't ask you for commentary, Lu. He's mine now, not yours."

Hana's firmness made a rush of affection course through Jamie's body. Luciofer shrugged irritably.

"Fine. But I'm gonna watch. Let's see you put what I've taught you to use, Jamison."

He vanished in a cloud of smoke, leaving the two seemingly alone. Hana looked up at Jamie as he rocked back and forth.

"So, uh...I mean, he's right, I'm not sure I'd be very good, and after all I really don't -"

Before he could finish his shy babbling, Hana had grabbed the back of his head, pulling him down to her level.

"You talk too much," she murmured, pressing her lips against his. Jamie froze for all of a second before reciprocating, kissing back hungrily. His hands wandered down, unbuttoning her blouse and pushing her up against the wall.

"Mmm..." she laughed softly against his lips, ticklish, as he slid off the blouse. The giggles melted into moans as his hands groped at her small but perky breasts, thumbs moving in circles over her nipples. Jamie exhaled huskily, feeling his cock ache to be freed from his pants. Hana caught on, hands moving down from cupping his face and undoing his fly. He groaned softly as he felt the pants loosen and slip down to his knees, awkwardly suspended as he ground his erection, still trapped in his boxers, up against her inner thighs.

"A-ahh, Jamie..."

He lifted her up without issue, pinning her up against the wall as one hand wrestled off her panties. They slid down to her ankle, bouncing awkwardly with each movement he made.

"D-don't forget..." she warned.

"I won't..." Jamie murmured, propping her up at such an angle that he could use both of his hands to pull the condom on. He could feel her wrap her legs around his midriff to keep from slipping, slick already dribbling down her thighs expectantly. She really wanted him.

"Jamie..." she whined, needy. He shushed her gently, kissing at her neck as he probed her entrance, delighting in the soft moans she made as he worked his cock deeper. Her muscles were taut around his member, her deep red face burrowing into his hair.

"F-fuck..." Hana groaned softly, curling her socked toes as Jamie gyrated his hips. Jamie's mouth pressed against her breast, running his tongue over the nipple and purring at the sounds she made, sensitive to his touch.

"Ah, fuck, fuck, Jamie..."

"Yeah...ya like that..." he hummed softly, thrusting experimentally. She made a sharp intake of breath, muscles tightening briefly as she adjusted her grip, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and tangling the fingers of her right hand into his hair. Her breasts bounced perkily with each thrust made into her, gravity pulling her down more and more onto his cock.

"O-oh -!" she gasped, as Jamison hit her sweet spot, making lust shoot up her spine like a live wire. She wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, moaning into the nape of his neck as he bit his lip, repeating the action. She moaned feverishly each time, drooling a bit.

"J-Jamie..." she pleaded, on the verge. He panted a bit, keeping at it despite his own impending climax. The heat continued to percolate in his abdomen as he sped up.

"F-fuck, Jamie, I'm g-gonna cum...!"

"M-me too, doll..."

Hana made a sharp, loud cry as her muscles squeezed rhythmically around his cock, orgasming messily. Jamie could feel her slick spraying onto his shirt as he came hard into the condom, cock twitching in ecstasy. He moaned softly into Hana's chest, as he thrusted weakly a few more times, riding out his climax along with Hana.

"Ah...hah...that felt so good..." she mumbled, clinging to him.

"I-I'm so glad ya liked it, doll..." Jamison laughed softly, staggering back to the locker bench and sitting down, gently removing Hana from his flaccid cock. Both took a moment to clean up and catch their breath.

"You're good...better than most I've had..." Hana praised, as she redonned her panties and blouse.

"Practice, I suppose...?"

"We'll have to do this again sometime..." she crooned, nuzzling his face. Jamie peppered her with kisses, beaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this hot garbage. Any comments/kudos are appreciated greatly.
> 
> Follow http://artumndiesirae.tumblr.com/ for other stories!  
> (Main blog: http://autumndiesirae.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this hot garbage. Any comments/kudos are appreciated greatly.
> 
> Follow http://artumndiesirae.tumblr.com/ for other stories!  
> (Main blog: http://autumndiesirae.tumblr.com/)


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